Writing in this space or one like it since 2001, usually with an F in the middle.

Search for:

From 2001 Until Today

From 2001 Until Today

Pilfer from the Filing Cabinet

Pilfer from the Filing Cabinet

Lessons from the Sacrifice (?)

I really don’t care very much about Facebook, which is probably not something that makes my mother very happy. I pretty much didn’t miss it. I used the hell out of Facebook Messenger, but Facebook itself? Nope. I expect that my Facebook traffic will become even more broadcast-heavy and even less about interaction. I browsed the timeline tonight but got very board. Facebook is something that I would’ve loved to have had in college, but I’m just not there anymore. [I mean, I’m in college, you get it, shut up, no you shut up.]

I missed Twitter more as time went by, purely because you can usually just wade into the river and see how things are going on. I used to sit on the river and watch it go by me, but I feel like that will happen less often now that I know that I can do it and not feel guilty about it. It was a couple of hours today before my thought was, “What’s on Twitter right now?” I’ve been on it a bit today, but I also read for class for three hours.

I did miss my friends, but I fought that with a simple email: “Tell me a small story from your life in the last couple of days.” That kept the focus narrow and light. I could find out about how my friends’ kids were doing with their spelling homework without having to feel like Big Huge Things Are Being Communicated. I didn’t do enough of it.

I don’t miss the drama.

I don’t miss being a cause or treble of the drama. Well, I didn’t miss it, and then I stepped right in it when I got back. Did I learn anything? Hmm.

Lastly, I was really aware of the fact that a lot of what I wanted to share was negative. I took to doing some private journaling, and there’s a solid week (or more) of me just being really, really angry. Now, I know exactly why I was angry and what my part in that anger was, but I think that the desire to spew forth the anger is a desire for someone else to make it right, as if that were even really possible. I’m not going to be zero-anger, but I am going to shoot for less-angry.

I make no promises about that last one being true in these last two weeks of the semester. No sleep ’til May Day.